(1/16/06) the furries of falcon crater; the first day of spanish class; cocaine with the white boy

(Entered in paper journal at 9:46 AM at Starbucks on 1st Street and 7th Avenue in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

It was daytime. I was in some desert or wilderness. I was with a group of people, but they were all off doing something else. I looked over my shoulder and saw a huge, silvery barn in front of which flew a colorful (but not bright) falcon.

I walked over an enormous crater on a steel girder or very narrow bridge. I wasn't too far across when I saw a bird come out of the sky. It flew closer and closer. As it approached me it flipped so its back faced me. It had red and blue, maybe some green, feathers highlighted with tans and browns. It had a long tail streaming from its tail feathers, red, maybe scaly.

I think I thought, It's a peregrine falcon!

The bird flew off naturally. I felt doomed and afraid and excited and blessed at having seen the bird. I figured (hoped) more birds would come.

I looked up and saw a white bird. I judged by its white head that it was a bald eagle. But its whole body was white. It was slightly disappointed, thinking it was "just" a seagull. But as it flew closer I saw it had a face like a seal, a furry, white seal.

The bird approached the railing of the crater and hovered down to the edge and was actually a seal. Now it was gone.

A group of kids came running up in its place. The area around the crater (if the crater was even there anymore) was now a pine forest. The kids may have come from some log cabin. They were dressed in plush suits with grey bodies like mice but huge, ink ears, like "some kind of bird." The kids all had strange faces. I was pretty sure they all had a deadly virus. One of them, with a chewed off right ear, actually collapsed.

I turned away. I still stood on the girder, but I don't think I was over anything too deep.

The children had been behind my right shoulder. I turned to see behind my left shoulder. Another group of kids, fewer, ran up in white suits like white seal suits. There was a female teacher with them.

I felt like another bird was coming, but I don't know whether I saw it.

Dream 2

I saw in Spanish class. It was our first day. I felt like I was shorter than all the other students, probably less intelligent, too.

The (male) teacher gave us our assignment. Already I knew I probably wouldn't do it. I was already confused by things the teacher was saying. Already I was being overwhelmed and losing ground in class.

The class's seating structure seemed to break apart, so everybody was scattered everywhere. I felt like a ton of people were already looking at me and deciding they didn't like me.

I already wished the semester were over.

The bell rang. I stood up and walked out to the "hallway," which was a balcony (oval?) surrounding the first floor.

I finally, somehow, figured out this was a high school class. I called someone on my cell phone, maybe BA, the leader of my Americorps NYC Parks program. I yelled at BA, asking why he had put me into a high school class.  I felt like I was being sprayed with a hose or soaked in my own sweat.

I walked back into the class. What I really didn't want to admit was that all these high school students could beat me intellectually. Nut now I was also ashamed I had made such a fool of myself by yelling about them right in front of the classroom.

But as I went into the classroom a girl walked past me. She was Hispanic, young, very pretty, very mature. She smiled at me like she thought I was cute because of the fuss I had made. I thought, Wait until she sees what a disappointing person I am, thought. Besides, she's too young for me.

I was outside. I walked some big square of blocks, up a slope, across, along something like a construction site full of muddy, brown gravel. I had a newspaper which I read and/or held over my head (though while I held it over my head I still considered its contents).

I must have stopped somewhere to do some Americorps work. I was now soaked and dirty. I turned and walked back down the slope and to the school. The street was now lined with trees. I realized I was heading back to class.

I looked down at myself -- my clothes (a maroon, button-up shirt and a pair of checkered or thinly patterned tan and black slacks) were disgustingly soaked and sticking to my body.

I wanted to ditch school, but I knew I couldn't do it that early in the school year. I would just have to go to school and live with how disgusting I looked.

Dream 3

I stood in a forest. I saw an image of my Americorps NYC Parks coworker VT a few yards off. Some unseen man to my left told me that VT was a cocaine dealer and that right before she left Americorps she got in trouble for doing cocaine "with the youngest white boy in the whole crew."

(10/14/06) this isn't the brazil you were thinking of; a turbojet panic; snail email

(Entered in paper journal at 9:03 AM at Ozzie's Coffee Shop on Garfield and 5th in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

I was on a subway. I was trying to get somewhere, but I had gone too far. The few people on the train (mostly Mexican) were telling me so. We stopped at a very wide station with wide, concrete overhangs -- but a very airy place on a grey day -- and like it was in an empty wilderness. I had to take a few stops down to get to a place where I could cross to a train heading in the opposite direction and head back up.

I was in "my bedroom." I may have been living with my mom and everybody else. I was hysterical with grief. I was trying to get to Brazil, but I knew I couldn't get past security the way I was. I had shot myself up with drugs (looked like roach powder from Cronenberg's film of Naked Lunch), either today or in the past couple days, and I knew that would all still be in my system.

But I got even more sorrowful when I recalled that I had actually donated blood after having shot up. Who knew what diseases might be in the blood of someone who shot themselves up with drugs like I had? I hoped the drugs and disease had worked their way out of my system by the time I had donated blood. I felt trapped in my room.

I was on the train. It had been a three hour ride from New York to Brazil. We pulled in by a shore. I walked over to a plaza of wood shop booths. Some mission-style buildings were in the distance.

But someone told me, "This isn't the Brazil you were thinking of. You have to get on a train and go four more hours to get into the main Brazil."

I thought, Do I have time for that? I couldn't remember whether I was here for just one day or for a long time.

Dream 2

I and a friend (unknown/unseen) were in an aviation museum. We came to a small room big enough only to contain a jet like an F-16. It was lit very comfortably and seemed almost like a living room.

My friend showed me a button that could activate the jet from the outside, on the underside. I knew it was there, too: we were both jet experts. But I was surprised it could actually start the jet, which I assumed was decommissioned for the museum.

The friend was now typing at a computer terminal hooked to the button (which was now a flesh-colored, plasticky outlet). The computer was so low he had to sit on the floor with his legs folded under him to type.

As he typed a turbojet beside the man activated. I stood beside it -- I hadn't been aware of its presence on the jet until now. It was bright silver, gnarled with smooth, beautiful pipes. I could see this was actually the strong engine on the jet. I was afraid the friend would get us in trouble for igniting the jet, but I also wanted to see it run. I could feel the intensity of the turbojet.

But a kid who was now with us stood right behind the jet. I pulled him away and held him very close to me. I may have been a woman. I tried to convince the kid, though he wouldn't believe me, that when these jets ignited they would disintegrate him. He had scared the heck out of me by standing right there.

Dream 3

A huge stack of envelopes on a table. They were like emails -- I read them as if off a screen. But I only read their title lines. But somehow a message from my company's sales and research liaison JB made it clear that I needed to read the stack of messages, especially la series of messages sent by him.

I opened one of the messages. It began, "Thank you, first of all, for the good wishes for me and my family. Would you mind..." (at this point he gave me some task to complete).

(12/9/07) deadly friends; las vegas descent

(Entered in paper journal at 9:25 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I stood on a subway platform with my old friend R and his fiancee L. The platform was very busy, but it was wide, with tall ceilings. I was waiting for a Q-train. As one train pulled up, R started talking about how he and L did something really cool that I could have been a part of if I hadn't stopped being friends with him.

The train that pulled up was an N-train. It was heading in my direction. But I needed a Q-train. Through the windows of the train I saw that my train was coming, but on the other platform. I ran off from R and L, kind of happy not to have to listen to R's talking anymore.

I didn't know if I could make my train. The stairwell up, which I would need to take to cross and get down to the other platform, was full, mostly of Hispanic people, mainly Mexican. Somehow, though I managed to jump about three-quarters of the way up the stairways side and grab the handrails.

I waited until a group of people made an opening for me. Then I flipped myself onto the stairs. The handrails were a softish-feeling aluminum.

I quickly ran to the other stairway and jumped down over its side. I got into the train (which appeared to be packed with people) right as the doors were closing.

I walked through the car. It was almost completely empty. It was filthy, and it had a weird smell, as if a homeless person were in it.

Three little Hispanic kids ran around in the train. I thought they were chasing around me, trying to taunt me in the guise of playing an innocent game with one another.

The kids' mother lay on one of the long benches (grey benches). She was covered entirely by a (pink?) blanket. Somewhere near her was a dried patch of blood. I probably stepped in the blood. It was sticky. I headed quickly into the next car, more out of a sense of indignant disgust than fear.

I was in a very dark room. My mom was somewhere, possibly even just talking to me by cell phone. I may have stood by a desk, kicking little cubes of safety glass out of the ridges of a green car-floor-mat.

My mom told me about the last time she'd seen my brother. My brother's friends had done something bad to him. My mom told my brother something like he shouldn't be surprised that these things happen if he keeps making friends with people like that. My mom said that my brother agreed and didn't seem too violently upset.

But my brother ended up found (?) in some place like an area by the side of a road or in a field. His mouth had been taped, my mom said. I could "see"/"feel" my brother's mouth and eyes taped over with silver duct tape.

My mom said it had later been determined that my brother had conspired to have himself killed by a friend. He had gone to a friend's house and had a drug mixture called a "coke XXXXX" ("coke set"?). He passed out. He then had his mouth taped by his friend so that he couldn't breathe -- as if the drug mixture impaired my brother's ability to breathe through his nose. His friend then took him and dumped him somewhere (roadside or field) to die.

Dream #2

I was in a commercial airplane. We seemed to be landing. I could see a lot, as if the windows on the plane were enormous. Suddenly we pulled up steeply. We ascended quickly, to a level where the blue sky became dark indigo. Big chunks of snow flew all around us. I laughed with glee. It was like I could feel the snow.

We now descended in Las Vegas. Somehow we landed on the road heading to the toll booth for cars. We pulled into the toll booth as far as we could.

A van in the toll booth pulled backwards and crashed into us. Its whole back end was smashed. I worried that the driver would sue us. But I realized he couldn't: he couldn't blame us for such a stupid action of his own. He must have realized that. He drove off to our side and away from us without even going into the airport.

I was at my dad's house. My stepmother was there and was somehow also my mom. I was trying to get out of the house and go somewhere. But my mom/stepmother kept threatening me, saying that if I left, she would make me very sorry. She also tried to convince me that, for now, this was where I wanted to be.